Hero
by Lady Maeror
Summary: On a whim, Horace decides to visit his old mentor: The catch is that he brought his apprentice. R&R. No Flames.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Hello! To answer your immediate thoughts; no I don't actually know what I'm writing here.

It really is the first inspiration I've had for RA fics for a while, and so I just wrote. I'm being a bit of a sook here and am testing the waters so to speak, to see if anyone wants to read this weird little fic I've come up with. If you do please feel free to drop a comment. If you dislike it, then please don't press the review button.

I just felt I had to write _something_ after so long.

Also I apologise once again for my long absence. I really am sorry. I hope to update soon.

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><p><strong>Hero<strong>

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><p>Tarrant sat back on his battlehorse, gazing with wonder at the countryside. His eyes took in his surroundings, acutely aware that few Battleschool apprentices were ever able to move between Fiefs like this.<p>

"Horace, where are we going?" He asked brightly.

That morning, little had been said from his mentor except that he was to pack his bags and be ready to ride out after breakfast.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Horace mused loudly, as he led Lion, his own battlehorse, ahead of the young boy.

When he was younger, Horace had found the small muses from his teachers and Halt to be degrading. The amount of times he felt embarrassed when Halt noted on the amount of questions he asked, or obvious statements he made were uncountable. But now he was the teacher he could understand their view.

"I, err, sorry." Tarrant replied, dejected.

In truth knights rarely had apprentices of their own. There were drill instructors, Swordsmasters and Battlemasters that taught multiple students at once. But Horace was a trained Battlemaster (although he did not control a Fief), as well as one of the most capable Swordsmasters in Araluen. Out of his own curiosity, he had taken on Tarrant because of the natural ability the young boy had within him. Alongside his ordinary classes, Tarrant completed two hours each day with Horace to hone his skills.

There was another reason as well; Tarrant was an orphan.

While riding through the town before Castle Araluen, Horace had found the young boy fending off an older bully with a stick. It was hardly too impressive, but Tarrant was quick and strong-hearted, even if he had been losing badly. After returning him to his Ward, the boy had told him earnestly of his dreams of becoming a knight.

Reminded of his own childhood, Horace had kept a watchful eye on him. He was glad that his suspicions had been proved correct, because Tarrant was already in his second year and well on his way to becoming a fine knight.

"To answer your question," Horace began, flicking a glance back at the boy, "we're on our way to Castle Redmont, to visit a hero of mine."

Tarrant's hazel eyes instantly lit up. "Redmont?" He gushed, "Are we going to see Ranger Halt? Or Ranger Will?"

As a Battleschool apprentice, he wasn't prone to the usual superstitions of village folk. He was aware of the deeds those two Ranger's had completed in their lives, as well as the tight bonds they had with his mentor. His excitement practically oozed from him.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Horace simply smiled. "Maybe we will, but that's not the reason." He answered haughtily.

Tarrant frowned, wondering who they could be visiting that was more heroic than the legendary Rangers.

But it seemed he wouldn't find out, as his mentor went oddly silent and continued to lead the way.

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><p><strong>AN:**

I told you I had no idea what I was writing about. Yes it's short, I think I'm experienced enough to notice that. I do have a next chapter, and maybe a third, if you want...

P.S.: WTB a better title for this .

- Mae.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

I'm not dead o.o Although some might have noticed this because I still read other's fanfiction and review… I just took a brief (really long) break from writing. Sorry!

Because I'm silly, I forgot to realise that some people might actually read this without reading my other stories. It's usually I have select readers that go after all my stories, whereas the general population on the RA site won't read my stand alone stories. So to explain: Kicker isn't dead, he's just retired. Horace isn't an official mentor so to speak, it's like how he had special training in Battleschool from Wallace. Makes sense? Set somewhere after Book 9 I think.

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><p>Tarrant followed his mentor obediently through the halls of Castle Redmont. Like many others before him that first arrived, he was immediately impressed with the sheer size of the Castle as well as its strong defences. Compared to Castle Araluen it was still a very impressive structure.<p>

"What was it like growing up here?" The young boy voiced out of curiosity.

Horace glanced back with a small smile. Unlike other apprentices he had seen, Tarrant was usually quiet and solemn and took to listening more than talking. He had wondered if it was his status that made the boy shy or if it was simply his nature. And yet this whole trip to Redmont had ignited the boy's curiosity and the questions flowed out of him without stopping.

"It defined who I am today. I spent a fair amount of years in my childhood being the resident bully, and really, a mean person. I picked on my Wardmates a bit and treated them like they were beneath me." He answered truthfully.

Tarrant gasped. "Surely not to Ranger Will? You two are such close friends!"

Horace gave a low chuckle as they passed by the main halls. The two effectively ignored a lot of the attention they were drawing.

"Will was my main victim, for many years. Unfortunately I can't change the past, and I was a right horrid person to him."

"But, how did it change?" The young apprentice asked.

"He saved my life." Horace answered simply. "I thought I hated him, and he with me. But he placed himself in danger and stopped an angry boar from ripping a great big hole through me. And for that I owe him my life. After that I realised how petty I had behaved, really, treating others that way is no way to live."

Tarrant absorbed his mentor's words with a certain solemnity.

Horace stopped briefly to turn around and place a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"If there's one thing I want you to remember from all my teachings Tarrant, it's to trust in your friends. When the world may seem dark and you're in danger, your friends will be the ones to help you out. Do you understand?"

"I understand Sir Horace."

"And you, Tarrant, have to be ready to put your life on the line for them as well. It goes both ways."

With a short nod from his apprentice, Horace smiled and set off again.

"So we _are_ going to visit Ranger Will!" Tarrant crowed with delight.

Without saying another word Horace led the way.

As it turned out, they weren't visiting a certain shabby cabin on the outskirts of Castle Redmont.

Instead Horace led Tarrant to a small office located close to Baron Arald's quarters.

There was no sign or anyway to tell Tarrant who it was they were actually visiting, but once Horace passed the guards and opened the door, the boy found he was sorely unimpressed.

The man before them exhibited the signs of a hard life with scars across his arms and a few on his face, as well as the well-muscled and strong frame shown by knights of the Kingdom. The man was greying heavily, showing signs of being close to retirement. The room itself was also quite simple, without any personal effects or items adorning the desk and chairs.

Horace of course, moved forward to greet the stranger warmly.

"Sir Rodney!" He voiced heartily as the two men clapped each other on the back.

"Horace my boy, it's been a while hasn't it? You didn't grow again did you? Big enough wouldn't you think?" Rodney replied cheerily, taking Horace's moment of silence to take advantage of the younger man and ruffle his hair enthusiastically, much to the discomfort of his former apprentice.

"And who is this?" Rodney asked, his keen eyes turning to the third member of the room.

"His name is Tarrant; he's the battleschool apprentice I told you about." Horace introduced him, spreading a hand wide to clasp the apprentice's shoulder and bring him forward.

"It's good to meet you." Rodney told him politely, outstretching a hand for him to take. He of course knew of the uncanny ability displayed in this youth, such as Horace had once exhibited. But he also knew not to inflate an apprentice's ego more than it already was.

Tarrant returned the handshake and was surprised by the strength of grip there. He nodded slightly, reverting back to his usual shyness.

He had heard of Sir Rodney certainly, but never with as much fervour as Ranger Halt or Will. Rodney was simply a name of the Battlemaster of Castle Redmont.

To say this "hero" of Horace's was a simple knight from another Fief left Tarrant feeling sorely disappointed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

Last chapter, methinks I might have ruined my original idea, but it was so long ago I posted this that I got fed up with the fact I left it hanging, so here it is, complete. (Finally!)

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><p>They didn't stay long, which prolonged Tarrant's boredom.<p>

The whole meeting didn't last more than an hour, with the two knights fervently talking about the things that had been happening at Castle Redmont and Araluen respectively.

Although not as impressed as he had hoped, Tarrant obediently behaved and said his goodbye politely as the two men retreated. Castle Redmont was of course a distance from Araluen and Horace planned to stay the night as well as visit some other old friends. As they wandered back to the knight's quarters, Horace detected the slump of Tarrant's shoulders and his downcast eyes and pursued his lips thoughtfully. They soon stopped at the room Tarrant would stay in for the night.

As the young apprentice moved to bid his mentor goodnight, Horace stopped him with a sharp look.

"You hardly seemed to enjoy today's visit, did you?" He asked neutrally.

Tarrant had learnt early on in his apprenticeship that lying was never a helpful tactic, so he nodded and voiced, "It wasn't what I expected, to be honest, Sir Horace."

"And what did you expect?"

The younger man stood before his mentor and hesitated before answering. Horace's blue eyes were almost steely and he knew he would need to pick his next words carefully.

"You said we were going to meet one of _your_ heroes. And you're one of the best and bravest knights I've ever heard of, so how could someone so…" He trailed off, unable to find a word that wouldn't be totally offensive.

"Ordinary?" Horace voiced for him.

Tarrant glanced quickly at his mentor's face and didn't like the mask that was set in place. "Yes, sir, he was a bit... ordinary." He answered meekly.

"Tarrant you need to learn a thing or two about heroes. They change from everyone's perspective, and most of them are exaggerated stories. And if you go through your apprenticeship judging every person you meet based on the stories surrounding them, you'll never see their true merit. And frankly, if that's how you want to be, there isn't much point with this special training I give you."

The younger man looked startled at his mentor's rather blunt statement and struggled to find his voice. "I'm sorry." He offered lamely.

Horace sighed heavily and knelt down before his apprentice. Even at this height Horace was still a huge figure.

"You asked me what it was like growing up at Castle Redmont. When I faced Choosing Day and was successfully enrolled in Battleschool I struggled immensely. Before I reformed myself and made peace with Will I too was bullied by three horrible older apprentices. My room was always a mess, my roommates feared associating with me, I hardly had sleep and my grades severely suffered.

"And yet despite all the problems I had and the disruptions I caused for my Drillmasters, Sir Rodney believed my potential to be a better man outweighed the trouble I created. And if he gave up on me I would never be the person I am today. He took me out for a boar hunt, despite the fact that I was failing all my classes except the physical ones. And if he hadn't done that, Will would have never saved my life, and I wouldn't probably be speaking to you right now."

Tarrant swallowed heavily, feeling very much like an ignorant fool.

"But they aren't the only reasons, Sir Rodney alongside our Baron here faced off against one of the deadliest creatures I've heard about to protect their friend. They fought relentlessly to hold off Morgarath's forces and secure our Kingdom. He might not be the greatest swordsman like MacNeil, nor cunning and agile like Ranger Will or Halt. But that doesn't mean what he's done in his life is any less important, do you understand?"

Tarrant nodded quickly, ready to agree with his mentor. "Yes, Sir Horace."

Horace stood up again and straightened, laying a hand gently on his apprentice's shoulder. "When you've faced as many fights as I have and fought for your life numerous times, you'll truly understand. It may surprise you who you eventually look up to the most." He let his hand fall and nodded slightly. "Good night Tarrant."

Tarrant hesitated before calling out as his mentor turned his back. "Sir Horace, I do have someone I look up to, actually."

Horace glanced back with curiosity. "Oh?"

"It's you sir."

"And why's that?"

He asked it with a certain edge and Tarrant once again experienced a moment where he knew his answer would forever define their relationship.

"It was because you saved me from that bully, sir. I think, he might have killed me if you didn't." He responded softly.

Horace lingered in the hall for a few more seconds before nodding in ascent. Then he turned around and walked away to his own quarters.

Tarrant breathed out a small sigh of relief and smiled briefly, before closing the door behind him.

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><p><strong>AN:**

So, what do you think?

- Love Mae.


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